I Will Write Our Story in the Stars
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: Violet Jones never stayed in one town for long; five schools in the last two years. At each place she tried a different identity; from cheerleader to skater chick. And she never had a problem with that. Until she arrived at Summer Bay, and suddenly didn't want to move anymore. She wanted to be herself. Maybe, a certain bad boy can help her figure out just who that is. KyleOC.
1. Chapter 1

I Will Write Our Story in the Stars

Chapter One

On Violet Jones's first day in Summer Bay, she tried ordering a beer at a place called Angelo's.

She'd grinned coquettishly, tilting her head to the side to expose her long, delicate neck, her hair piled on top of her head, shorter strands falling out and framing her face. Her full lips pouted slightly, eyes begging the bartender to give it to her with a wicked charm that beguiled most.

If she played it just right, 'it', would become an imprecise, vague thing.

The point was to distract them long enough for the bartender to forget to ask for ID. Because Violet Jones was only seventeen. But it was easy to mistake her for an eighteen or nineteen year old.

The bartender standing across from her, his arms braced on the countertop, had a pointed chin, and smooth, deep caramel skin. Brown eyes almost the same shade as his hair, gazed at her critically. She shifted, somewhat uncomfortable under his focused gaze and she inwardly groaned. She knew better than to shift in her seat, or fiddle. They were all signs that someone was doing something they shouldn't.

And damn, she wanted that beer.

Hopefully to make up for the shifting, she added, "It's been a long day at university."

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. "Sure."

She wasn't certain if that was an understanding 'Sure, I'll get you a beer' or a sarcastic 'Sure it was a long day at university'. She hoped it was the former. For now, she'd assume it was.

"Great," Violet said emphatically, rolling her shoulders like it had, indeed, been a long day. She crossed her legs on the bar stool, her heel-clad foot bouncing to an inaudible beat, glancing around. It seemed fairly quiet at the moment. Angelo's appeared to be a restaurant as well, and considering it was about four in the afternoon, it lingered in the in-between time of lunch and dinner crowds.

"As soon as you show me some ID," he said, squashing her triumphant feeling. Sometimes, just getting the drink was better than the drink itself.

Her head whipped back around to him, pulling out some tricks she'd learnt through observation. She leant forward on the counter, the low scoop neckline of her fitted singlet displaying her generous endowments to him as they sat on the cool bench. She leaned forward, looking up from under her lashes in a smoldering gaze, creating a sense of intimacy between them.

He was young, not long out of high school, she'd say. And he was attractive, with a tall build that made it much easier to want to try her tricks. His long torso was lean, and looked firm under his well fitted black shirt, the sleeves rolled up and exposing his arms from the elbow down. Violet was such a sucker for the arms, and she pulled herself away from such musings before she lost her head. He seemed completely at ease in his own skin. Confident.

When he didn't move back, but continued to lean forward on his braced hands, not breaking the new sense of awareness between them, she took it as a good sign. When his eyes dropped, for a moment, down, then back up just as quickly, like he was trying to be subtle about it, she took it as another good sign. The stirrings of triumph swelled in her chest again. She said, in a smooth voice, "It seems I left it in my car."

"Well," he leaned forward slightly. This was it. He was playing right into her hands. Damn, she was good. Violet had learned quickly how to get what she wanted. And she was very good at it. But then he shattered it, "You'll just have to go and get it, then."

Her sensual smile slipped, her lips pressing tight in annoyance as it flashed across her face. It was gone in an instant. Her voice was silky again, repeating his words, "Well, I'll just go get it then."

"You do that." His voice held an air of finality to it, like he didn't expect her to come back. He started to turn away, and Violet frowned. Occasionally, there were the men, mostly women, who called her on it. Who wouldn't let her get away with it. And that was fine. But usually, they were older men, too used to the tricks teenagers would pull for a drink, full of life experience that made it much harder to fool them. The younger ones folded like a cheap suit.

She'd use her honeyed voice, a few flirtatious looks, her mouth spelling sex, and they'd be clamoring to give her what she wanted. She could see it happen, almost, when they ceased thinking with their upstairs brain.

The better establishments were more likely a failed attempt. The bartenders were more likely to ask for ID, more likely to hold strictly to the rules of the distribution of alcohol. They didn't want to lose their jobs over a girl and a possible romp in the sheets. And so far, Angelo's looked to be one of the better establishments.

"Okay," she smiled, like it wasn't a problem. By this point in one of her stunts, she'd walk out and never go back. This place was a loss, no point trying again. But damn if she didn't like a challenge. And that bartender…he'd challenged her. She could see it in his eyes. They dared her to prove him wrong. And she didn't want to disappoint. She dropped her purse. "Oops."

She leant down to pick up her purse, keeping her legs straight and giving the bartender an uninhibited view of her ass. Her floral skirt, tight, firm, designed to show off her voluptuous curves, was also short, so she knew it would be riding dangerously close to her underwear.

She knew this was going a bit far. She knew it. She didn't sleep around. This thing she did, it was about control. It was about interchangeability. It was about knowing she could play this game called life, and knowing that, while not everything was perfect, not everything was beautiful and wonderful and good, that she could handle it on her own. She didn't need anyone to do it for her. She was independent and feisty, and she didn't need anyone to look after her.

Because if she could do that, she could be whoever she wanted to be.

Plus, she just wanted a beer.

Every town she went to, she became someone different. She became whatever she wanted. At the last town, she'd been a cheerleader. The town before that, she'd been a skater girl. Before that, she'd been into drama; a drama queen, acting in plays and productions. Before that, she'd tried her hand at being a jock; mainly netball and soccer, because she was too short for basketball and cricket bored her to tears. It was just something she did.

Her fingers grasped her purse, and she turned to the side, from her doubled over position, to see if he was looking. She needed to know if he was. It would decide how she was going to play this.

Her eyes met his, and she grinned hugely. He was caught, and he knew it. He looked away as she straightened up. His cheeks were tinged, perhaps, just slightly pink. But his skin was so tanned it was hard to tell. He'd obviously spent a lot of time in the sun.

"Were you looking at my butt?" She asked, amusement in her voice, even though she knew the answer. He didn't answer, cleaning a glass. She threw her head back and let loose a laugh. It was uninhibited and free, and she thought it was, perhaps, her most attractive feature. It made other people laugh along with her. "Sir, you are no gentleman."

"And you, Miss, are no lady," he retorted, and her jaw dropped. She had not been expecting that. At all. She did not know of a single man to ever know her references. She dropped them all over the place, but none ever picked them up. But he did.

She knew then, that he had to be intelligent. No wonder he had not caved to her cajoling enticement. He was too smart to fool.

But just because he'd got her _Gone With The Wind_ reference, didn't mean she didn't want to try, still. She sauntered her way out of the restaurant slowly, her hips swaying back and forth alluringly. She wasn't really a heels girl. Sure they were nice for some occasions, but mainly, she wore them to appear taller. Generally, as a rule, taller people were regarded as being older. But they also made her butt look great. And she could feel his eyes on her as she walked out, into the car park where the Kia Sorento was parked.

Summer Bay was on a beach, a gorgeous looking beach, with golden, sun-kissed sand, deliciously refreshing blue water, and a harsh yellow orb in the sky. She pulled her large shades down her face, from where they perched on her head. A nice breeze kicked up from the waves, running up to her and shoving her wavy black hair into her face. She unlocked her car, pretending to rummage around. Her license was of course, in her purse. But that wasn't what she'd told the bartender, and she didn't know if there was a window for him to watch her out of. She closed the door, and locked it again, heading back inside.

She was pleased that he was surprised when she walked back inside, his eyebrows rising. He hadn't expected her to come back. She sat back down on the same stool, crossing her legs again. "So, my _Gone With The Wind _compañero, how 'bout that beer?"

"How 'bout that ID?"

She rolled her eyes, holding her license up, her thumb conveniently covering her birth date. He just looked at her, not fooled.

"Don't give her anything!" A voice called from behind her, and Violet sighed dramatically, slumping over the counter in defeat. "She's underage!"

"_Daddy_," Violet groaned, sitting back up. "Way to ruin it." She grumbled under her breath.

"Don't worry," the bartender assured him. "I knew she was underage," he said drily, giving Violet a did-you-really-think-you-could-fool-me look.

"Didn't stop you from staring at my ass," she said lowly, threateningly. Her dad reached her then, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in his usual, oblivious dad way. He reached a hand out to the bartender for a handshake.

Violet looked nothing like her dad. He was a blonde man, tall, though not crazy-tall. Shorter than this bartender. His eyes were a stark blue, while Violet's were green. And he always seemed to carry with him an air of obliviousness.

"I'm Whitney Jones, and this is my daughter, Violet. We're new to the bay," he grinned. "I'm sorry about her. She didn't give you too hard a time, did she? She really is a good kid."

"Oh," the bartender said, shaking his proffered hand. "Welcome, then. And no, she was fine. Believe it or not, even in a small town, kids are always trying stuff like this. It's common."

The bartender didn't seem particularly verbose. He didn't mince words, either. He said his point, then shut up. Her dad could be the opposite, at time; long-winded.

Violet didn't appreciate being referred to as a kid, especially by this guy, who didn't seem all that much older than her. Plus, he'd looked at her butt. You didn't do that to a kid.

"Oh, sugar," Violet grinned wickedly, shaking her head in a way that said he clearly underestimated her. "You ain't seen no one like me before."

**So… What did you think? **

**Please leave a review letting me know what you thought!**

**Should it be continued, or not?**


	2. Chapter 2

I Will Write Our Story in the Stars

Chapter Two

Violet sighed, sipping at her mango juice.

Her dad ignored her. He'd become an expert at ignoring her dramatic sighs ever since she got involved in drama a couple towns back. When she made everything into a big deal, he just ended up ignoring her. He read the paper at their kitchen table while Violet had breakfast. Toast and honey.

He didn't have the ring on his finger anymore. Violet forgot when he took it off. Maybe their first move, after the divorce was finalized. Her parents had been having issues for a while, and then her mum cheated on her dad. And they broke it off, and changed Violet's life.

And she chose her dad. She couldn't bring herself to forgive her mum for what she did, for causing her world to up end on itself.

"So…" Her dad folded the paper, looking up at her. She didn't know many people who actually read the newspaper in the morning. "Who are you going to be this time?"

It was her first day at school. And her dad had gotten used to her changing behaviour and persona by now to know that she was someone different at each school. She never actually specifically said it was what she did, but she figured he caught on after she went from carrying a skateboard around with her everywhere, to walking about in heels.

She was already ready for school; she had the Summer Bay High School uniform on. A dress with a white collar, and a god-awful matching of purple, blue and red in a plaid pattern. Her wavy black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, loose strands going wild everywhere. She'd been trying to figure out who she would be this time around, but it was turning out harder than she expected.

So far, she was stumped.

"Not sure yet," she mumbled, taking another bite of her toast. "Guess I'll figure it out when I get there."

The first move after her parents' divorce, Violet threw herself into school work. She worked hard, she got great marks. She usually had her hair pulled back in a low sitting ponytail. She was an overachiever, to the point of neurosis. She didn't want to think about all the issues with her mum, and she certainly didn't want to share those issues with anyone. The good thing about preppy kids, was that while they were friends, they were usually too busy trying to out-do each other than really do the whole getting-to-know-you thing. So she didn't have to share anything personal about herself. It was a relief. She didn't want people to know anything about her, and so she went by a shortened version of her middle name, Truth. She was Tru, to the people who bothered to know it.

Then her dad became a fully qualified and capable travel nurse, which meant that they went from hospital gig to hospital gig, temporarily filling open positions wherever they were needed. So they moved to a different state, the ACT.

The only thing was, Violet was over being so concentrated on her studies, on forcing herself to do continuous math equations and English questions. She wanted a different outlet, a different exercise. So she started into sports. As many as she could, and she became a jock. That was when she became Letti, a nickname formed from the end of her first name. She came out of her shell she'd created after her parents' divorce. She joined school teams and outside school teams. Netball and soccer, a little hockey and softball. And it had been fun. A thrill. She'd even tried rock climbing for a while. She'd been into oversized shirts and jeans. Lots and lots of jeans and sneakers and headbands to keep her hair out of her face.

Then they moved again, to the south of Western Australia, somewhere near Perth. That was the drama queen her. Loud, exaggerated, attention seeking, and just plain dramatic, about everything. She'd made friends with some other kids into drama and music classes. She'd joined the choir, she joined the school musical production, and she even signed up for acting classes with an outside organization. She'd discovered makeup, and nice clothes and jewelry. She'd played Scarlett O'Hara in a play, and got to slap a bunch of people. This was where she became ViVi.

It was by far, their shortest stay. She had a suspicion her dad hurried their stay up so she could leave her drama queen ways behind them.

They moved up north in Western Australia. And that was where she'd been a skater girl. She'd been a wild child; free and uninhibited. That was when she'd really let loose, and really laughed. Lots of denim short shorts and loose band shirts and singlets, and hoodies. Converse shoes. She grew her hair out, long and wavy, rarely brushing it. She'd learned how to use a skateboard, but never really got the hang of it. Didn't stop her from trying though. She'd been a freestylist skater, making up her own tricks with the group of friends she'd made. She couldn't remember the number of cuts and scrapes she got from stacking it. She went crazy with the design on the bottom of her board; lots of bright paints and patterns. That was where she'd been V. Just V.

The last place, Blue Haven, she'd been a cheerleader. She'd been Vee, the new girl who liked to dance, and thus joined the cheerleading team. She'd been peppy, always with some sort of bubbling energy. It had been seriously exhausting. She'd gone to a lot of parties, a lot of events. She developed a taste for beer. It was when she started her high heel collection. She lost count of the number of times she exceeded the money limit her dad imposed on her shopping trips. Usually due to a cute pair of heels or a gorgeous handbag.

"I'm going to get to school. Don't want to be late," she said, jumping up and grabbing her bag she'd packed the day before. Then she paused; or did she?

Maybe that was who she could be; a bad girl. She'd already partially set herself up for it at the bar yesterday when she tried to order a beer. She pressed her lips together. That might be pushing it, though. Her dad only went along with her changes if she promised not to do drugs, and to keep good marks. He wouldn't tolerate a rise in detentions, or expulsion.

She pressed a kiss to her dad's cheek before leaving. It wasn't a long walk to the school. Everything was so close in this town. Maybe she could go for a walk along the beach; it was along the way. It might help clear her head.

It might give her inspiration for a persona.

She walked slowly, watching her feet. She knew when she was close to the beach, because wind kicked up, blowing her hair about in the wind. She frowned, getting down to business as she walked along outside what looked like a gym or something, her hand running along a wooden fence that marked the beginning of the beach.

_Start with the name_, she thought. Some variation of her names: Violet Truth Jones. TJ? Jones? Truth? Truvy? Vi? Keep it simple. Simple was usually better. Vi was good. It hadn't been done by her before, so it was workable. She'd introduce herself as Vi. Okay, next. Her attitude. This was a tricky one.

She paused, turning to look out over the beach. It was beautiful, with the morning sun making the water sparkle with a hundred different hues of blue and green. The sand looked warm and inviting, and she almost wanted to just go down there and lay there for the rest of the day. She turned her face upwards to the sun, letting it warm her and hoping she didn't get sunburnt. When she looked back down, needing to actually keep moving to get to school, she saw him.

The bartender from yesterday. She pursed her lips together. She didn't know if she liked the smirk on his face when his eyes landed on her. He was obviously going to hold it over her that he'd caught her out, before her dad dobbed her in.

She was going to keep walking past him, letting him know she didn't appreciate his smug behaviour. But then he spoke. "Oh, it's you, the _underage_ school student."

She pursed her lips again, narrowing her eyes as she came to a stop in front of him, her hands going to her hips. Her quick eyes took in the chain around his neck, and the tattoo on the inside of his arm, visible because his sleeves were rolled up again. She didn't know how she'd missed the tattoo yesterday. She could have used it to her advantage if she had. It read 'All or Nothing'. It was a good thought. Maybe that could be her persona; she'd give her all, because there was no point in doing anything half-assed. But that was more of a trait than a persona.

She cocked her head, looking him in the eyes, "Oh, it's you, the bartending pervert who would deny a girl a drink."

He half-laughed, though he looked at her seriously, "Only if she was underage."

"You couldn't possibly know if I was underage or not," she snapped. And she realized that she couldn't really read the bartender the way she could read other people. She didn't know the emotions, the motives behind his facial expressions and behavourisms. They were mixed. Confused.

He was the kind of guy that, if you met in a bar, you'd either think he was content just to have a quiet beer by himself, or was readying himself for a fight in which you'd get your ass handed to you. It was hard to tell which one it was, though.

"Kyle?" A female voice called, coming up from the beach. When the bartender reacted like she was referring to him, Violet figured this was Kyle. The woman had blonde, thick hair, and mercifully wasn't stick-thin like a lot of other women she'd seen so far at Summer Bay. Violet wasn't fat, but she wasn't super thin; she was crazy curvy, which meant she carried around a few extra kilos than other girls. Thankfully, those kilos were in the right places. "Can I have a word?"

"Yeah."

The woman looked at Violet, then looked at Kyle, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Kyle scoffed and Violet looked at him, affronted. While the woman wasn't interrupting anything, she didn't like the way Kyle scoffed like there was _no possible way_ there could be. "This is Violet. She's new to the bay. She tried to get a beer yesterday. Violet, this is Ricky."

Violet opened her mouth to correct Kyle. She was Vi. Just Vi. But it was too late when Ricky shoved her hand towards Violet for a handshake. "Violet?"

"Actually," she tried, but Ricky kept talking.

Ricky nodded. "A girl after my own heart." Then she looked up at Kyle again, a cheeky grin on her face. He really was quite tall. "Is she the one who was sprung by her dad, then?"

Kyle's jaw clenched, like she'd just done something he'd expressly asked her _not_ to do.

"Been talking about me behind my back?" Violet asked, crossing her arms in front of her. "Spreading lies?"

"More like the truth," Kyle said, mirroring her action with his arms, and crossing them again.

Violet's jaw clenched. "Well," she said, her voice going smooth and innocent. "If we're spreading some truth…" She turned to Ricky, who looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or leave. "_Kyle_," she stressed his name, pointing out that he never even introduced himself to her. "Was checking out my butt yesterday."

"Shouldn't you be getting to school?" He snapped, uncomfortable.

"Yes. Thanks for reminding me," she said sarcastically. She looked back at Ricky, "It was nice meeting you."

"You too."

She walked past them, ignoring Kyle.

"Wait," Ricky called and when she turned around, Ricky was speaking to Kyle. "Kyle, why don't you take her? Show her where it is?"

"Uh," Violet shook her head, "I don't think so."

She did not particularly want to spend more time with him than strictly necessary.

"Trust me," Ricky said seriously. "Kyle can be very threatening. Showing up with him will mean no one will mess with you."

Violet believed her. There was something about Kyle that could be scary, if he wanted to be. There was something just under the surface, and it was linked to the fact that Violet couldn't get a read on him. but Violet could look after herself; she didn't need anyone to scare people off or stop them from bugging her. she could do that herself.

"I can look after myself," Violet assured her instead. "Really."

She walked away. She was probably going to be late. Her little squabble with Kyle had wasted time that she needed to think up her persona. And she was running out of time to employ it as well. She glanced back, Ricky and Kyle were still in conversation, and judging from their faces, it was semi-serious. Maybe that was what she'd wanted to talk to Kyle about. Were they together? It would explain why he'd told her about the girl who'd tried to order a beer. But Ricky was older. Older than Kyle, and while it wasn't uncommon, Violet still thought it was unlikely they were together.

And then Kyle turned and started jogging easily, in a confident, long-legged lope, to catch up to her. She hurried her pace, trying to get away from him, but within moments he was just a couple steps behind her. And that was where he stayed.

"I don't need a babysitter," Violet told him, irritated. She hadn't for years now. "I can get to the school just fine, and I'm not going to try and order a beer anywhere else," she said, her voice repeating the words her dad had made her say on their drive to their new house yesterday, after he caught her.

"Not that that'd be a problem. You don't look old enough to drink, anyway."

"Ugh," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "I don't need your help."

She was coming up to a road that was relatively deserted. The road her dad had driven in on. But something off to the side caught her attention. She didn't know what it was, and she squinted, her voice trailing off, "…I can look after myself."

It was some sort of brown blur, in amongst the trees, and she started towards it.

"Hey, wait – ," Kyle yelled at the same time as she heard tires squealing. Strong, unyielding arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up easily off the ground and spinning her around, bringing her back down. Her feet met with sandy grass, at the edge of the road she'd just so brashly started across, not looking. She was too focused on the blur further down from where they were to have been paying attention. She wanted to know what it was.

"Clearly," Kyle gritted out forcefully between clenched teeth. "You can't."

Dazedly, she watched the car continue on, "That was close."

Violet turned back to look in the direction of where she wanted to go. She barely even noticed the car; no, she hadn't been paying attention to the road, and had just walked across, but she was fine. Nobody was hurt, and the car kept driving, so she felt no need to suddenly be sidetracked from her original purpose. But she certainly noticed the way Kyle's arms were still wrapped around her tightly, pressing her soft body tightly against his hard, lean one. His face was bent down, clearly irritated with her, trying to get her to take the situation seriously. "What is with you all of a sudden?"

From far away, they could be mistaken as an embracing couple, about to kiss.

"Nothing. And yes, I can," she said stubbornly, vaguely, like she was on autopilot. Her arms came up to press against his chest, pushing herself away from him and breaking his vice grip, before continuing on.

The brown blur didn't move. It was small, on the grassy floor, and she was beginning to suspect what it was.

"Um, did you not just see that you could've been killed by that car?" Kyle asked exasperatedly, gesturing at the road from behind her, following her.

"Yes, yes," she said quickly, dismissively. "And you saved my life, my hero, thank you so much, blah blah blah."

He caught up to her, grabbing her wrist. He rolled his eyes at her, "You're welcome." His lips quirked. "And the school is in that direction."

"I know," she said. "But look," she pointed at what she'd been focused on. She took a step forward, Kyle's grip not breaking. He was torn between just leaving her, because she was being such a hassle, and dragging her to school in the other direction. Before he could make up his mind though, Violet tugged on his arm, bringing him with her.

When they got closer, the blurry shape took form. And Kyle stopped her again, "It could have rabies. Don't go near it."

Violet shrugged him off irritably, "I wonder why it's just laying there."

The dog lifted its head, looking at Violet. It lay amongst the weeks and the grass, on its side, and its tail thumped twice. It tried to sit up, struggling, but it was having difficulty moving. It let loose a soft, heartbreaking whine. Her face softened, "It's hurt."

Violet went to help it. She had a soft spot for dogs; she could never refuse one. And this one looked at her with such sad eyes that she wanted to gather it's large body up in her arms and never let go.

"Don't," Kyle warned.

Violet rolled her eyes, "Don't be such a baby."

She crouched down next to the dog. It was a large, adorable dog, and Violet thought it might be a mastiff. She reached out a hand slowly to it, in case it didn't appreciate her invasion of space, or take the movement as a threat. But she needn't have bothered, because the dog welcomed her hand, licking her. A giggle burst out her lips before she could stop it. The dog rolled onto its back slightly for a belly rub, and Violet noticed it was a girl.

Then Violet also noticed the blood on her side. And one of her back legs was sitting at an odd angle. Bruising marred her skin under the dried, bloody mess. The dog let out another whine, looking at Violet. And Jesus, did it tug at her heartstrings or what?

"She's hurt," Violet said urgently, turning to look at Kyle who had his arms folded, watching them. "Pick her up," she commanded. The dog was too big and heavy for Violet to lift.

"What?" Kyle shook his head.

"We can't just leave her here. She needs to see a vet. Is there one around here?" Violet waited for his answer, raising her eyebrows when it took him longer than two seconds to reply. She gestured at the dog, as if to say 'she isn't going to lift herself'. Violet was all go-go-go, and Kyle was just slowing her down. "Hurry up," she encouraged, bouncing from foot to foot as Kyle lifted the dog.

He sent her a glare, "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, _sorry_," she said dramatically. But she couldn't help herself. "But seriously, can you go any slower?"

"Right, that's it," Kyle threatened, going to put the dog back down. Violet jumped in front of him, holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

"Okay, stop. I'm sorry." She looked at Kyle across the dogs limp form, biting her lip. Violet didn't like the way she just laid like that in Kyle's arms. "I think she's been hit by a car."

"Oh, like you almost were?" Kyle said pointedly.

"_Alright_. Fine. _Thank you_, Kyle. I owe you one. As soon as you stop acting like a girl, I'll buy you a drink. Let's go," Violet said, walking along the road.

"Violet?"

"Yeah?" She turned around and Kyle hadn't moved. Seriously, what was the hold up? The dog needed help, and he was just standing there?

"It's this way," he nodded in the opposite direction to the way she was headed. Her cheeks tinged pink. They started along in the right direction. The dog's head flopped over Kyle's arm to look at Violet. She gently scratched at her head.

"It's okay. You'll be okay," she told her in a low, mumbling voice. Kyle shifted her in his arms, and Violet scolded him, "Don't jostle her! Can't you see she's in pain?"

He glared at her, "You know, you really need to work on being grateful. And your apologies."

"And you need to work on not feeling me up," Violet retorted.

"_What_?" he asked, exasperated again. His brown eyes looked at her incredulously.

She pursed her lips, "Don't think I didn't notice just how tightly you had me pressed against you before."

Outrage flashed across his face, his cheeks reddening. Though, it could have been from carrying a heavy dog. "I was saving your life!"

"Yeah. I'm sure." Her tone, very clearly, said she didn't believe him at all.

"Ungrateful," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Pervert."

**Thanks for reading! What did you think?**

**Also, I like to do replies to reviews at the end of each new update. So, here are the replies to the reviews for my first chapter:**

**Koryandrs: **Hey stranger :) Thanks so much for reviewing this story as well! It's so nice of you! I'm glad you think it looks good so far, and that you think I should continue, because I really wanted to continue it! Thanks for reviewing this for me!

**Rebeccabraxton: **Hi! Thank you so much for taking the time to review this story for me! I'm so stoked you think it was 'awesome' and that you liked how I began it! It's so nice of you to take the time to review for me, so thanks! I was going to make Violet a bad girl, but then I changed my mind, because her backstory doesn't really fit the bad girl personality. Instead, she's kind of sassy and feisty, and I hope you like her just the same! Thanks so much, again! I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

**Charlie: **Aw, thank you so much! I'm so glad you thought it was amazing, and that you loved it! I'm also really pleased you seem to want to read more! I hope you liked this chapter then. And thank you so much for taking the time to review this for me! It means a lot to me!

**Izzy: **Thanks so much for taking the time to review for me! It's really nice of you! And I'm really pleased you seem interested in reading more of this story! I hope you liked this chapter, then! :)


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